Bright Morning Stars
by GooseBerries18
Summary: After the 1992 Uprising, Robert and Maryse Lightwood were exiled to the NY Institute, and their first-born was meant to live as a mundane orphan as punishment for the Circle's crimes. Alec grew up as a mundane but always knew he was meant to do more. What happens when he reenters the Shadow world when his foster sister requires the help of a strange man claiming to be a Warlock?
1. Prologue

_"Bright morning stars are rising..."_

Alicante was on fire. The sight of flames licking at the dawn would have been awe-striking had they not been a symbol of Maryse and Robert's deadly mistake. The pair walked beside each other even in sentencing, taking note of the damage they had helped cause. Despite the battle having been ended hours ago, there were still bodies littering the grass around the buildings; a testament to how much destruction the Circle had caused in their crashing of the Ninth Accords signing.

The battle had been waged the previous evening and late into the night with only the stars as witnesses. Now as the dawn broke through the film of night there was nothing left to do but clean up the destruction as best as possible. Maryse Lightwood had chosen to quit fighting the Clave if only for the sake of her toddler son. The tuft of black hair and warm hazel eyes meant everything to her. If only there had been enough time to escape the city before they could stand trial. Maryse just had to hope that the Clave would ease the punishment on her and her husband if only for the fact that they had a son already born to the world and another child just seven months away from appearing.

"Robert and Maryse Lightwood," Inquisitor Herondale spoke upon the couple entering the chamber. The woman had taken over as Inquisitor after the death of her only son just a year before. Maryse's heart sunk deep to the bottom of her chest upon seeing the woman, knowing she was less-than-forgiving when it came to Circle members. "You have been charged with treason against the Clave and thus will be sentenced. You have caused the deaths of hundreds of Shadowhunters, caused innocents to be orphaned. What do you have to say in your defense?"

What was there to say? Maryse had done it all and she'd done it with fervor because she'd fallen for the charisma of Valentine Morgenstern. She hung her head low in shame, unable to find any words to justify what she'd done.

Luckily, her husband seemed to find the words she lacked. "Inquisitor, we take full responsibility for our actions. We just ask that you show mercy. We have a son, Alexander Lightwood, and we have another child on the way. Please, don't orphan them, too. They're still innocent." Never in Maryse's life did she think she'd hear Robert Lightwood pleading with anyone, but this was their child they were talking about. They both knew full well they could be sentenced to exile, meant to live as mundanes until demons hunted them down, killed them and their two beautiful children. Deruned Shadowhunters never did last long in the world without such protection.

"To show we are not as heartless as the Circle who ruined so many innocent lives, Maryse and Robert Lightwood will not be deruned and exiled. Instead, they will be exiled to the New York Institute where Robert will serve as Head of the Institute. They, along with their unborn child, will not be allowed to return to Alicante unless summoned there by the Clave," the Inquisitor spoke, voice hard and commanding authority.

"Inquisitor Herondale, what of A-" Robert began, though was quickly cut off by the woman sitting before them.

"Your crimes have not gone unnoticed, Robert Lightwood, and as punishment for the innocent lives ruined by your actions, Alexander Lightwood will be sent to New York, but will live his days as a mundane."

The words were a harsh blow to both Lightwoods. Maryse looked to her husband in absolute horror. They were to lose their son? "Inquisitor, Alec did nothing wrong to deserve th-" Maryse began, vision blurring slightly as tears glossed over her eyes. Maryse refused to cry in front of these people, so she sucked in a breath and prayed for her tears to halt.

"Just as so many other children did nothing wrong to deserve being orphaned. Such is the way of life, Maryse Lightwood. You will have one hour before someone will come to collect him and you will be expected to leave to the New York Institute. You two are dismissed," the Inquisitor called out before those in the room stood and began to file out of the room. Maryse was left standing facing her husband, shock filling her features. She did this. She had been the one to convince him to join the Circle, and now they were losing their first-born to her decision.

The hour didn't feel like enough time. Maryse had clung to her son tightly, whispering how sorry she was into his ear at every occasion. In time one of the Shadowhunter soldiers came, an expression nearing one of pity taking on his face as he picking the toddler up into his arms. As much as Maryse didn't want to, she would always remember Alec looking as he had in that moment. Black hair messy from her hugging him so tightly, hazel eyes shining bright from the tears flowing down his face as he called for his mother, little hand outstretched toward her.

 _"Oh, where are our dear children? Bright morning stars are rising, day is a-breaking in my soul."_

* * *

 **A/N: I'd love to hear what y'all think so far. Obviously the rest of the chapters will be longer, this one is just short because it's the prologue and it's setting everything up. I'll try to update either every week or every other week, it'll just depend on my schedule. The rest of the fic will be from Alec's point of view, and the next chapter will jump ahead to when he's 23 like in the show, but there will be flashbacks! Anyway, thank you so much for reading and I hope you like it.**


	2. A Mundane Life

"Alec, you're up!" a gruff voice called from behind the counter to the young man who was just re-tying his apron around his waist. Lunch breaks were never long enough, Alec had quickly realized upon finding the job at the restaurant. The black-haired man brushed off his black button-up shirt and made sure his appearance was spotless before walking back out to the main floor of the building. He would have quit working at the high-end restaurant by then if the tips weren't so excellent.

"You're an ass," Alec hissed out upon seeing the woman sitting at one of the tables he was to wait on. The man in front of him only let out a short laugh at the exclamation. "You know I can't deal with Mrs. Freedman."

"Why can't you? She's one of the richest ladies in the city, I'm doin' you a favor, pal," his boss returned, laughing all the way back to the welcome podium.

Alec steeled himself for his toughest mission yet; dealing with a rich old divorcee who just wanted a young companion. "Hello, Mrs. Freedman, welcome back," he greeted with a trying smile on his lips as he neared the table.

"Oh, please, call me Patricia. You know this by now, Alec," the elder lady laughed, throwing him a wink in the process.

"Of course. Can I get you the usual, Patricia?" Alec returned, trying his hardest to remain composed. After all, his boss was right; she always gave the best tips. He would treat her anyway she liked if it meant he got the pay at the end of the day. Some of the other waiters and waitresses were jealous of how tightly the woman had latched onto him, if only because of the sharp pay boost it had given him. It had also helped his standing at the restaurant, considering the highly influential woman had raved about the restaurant on more than one occasion to win the favors of the twenty-three year old.

"Let's mix it up a little. I'll have your finest sauvignon blanc with my meal. Go a little crazy, right?" the woman laughed, brushing a hand on his wrist as he reached up to write it on the pad of paper.

"I'll have that right out," Alec replied quickly.

"Oh why don't you come back and we'll chat before my meal comes out, okay?"

The smile on Alec's face turned almost into a wince before he could help it, though it returned quickly back once Alec regained control. "You know I can't ignore the rest of my tables, Patricia." Though it took one glance around the room for Patricia to note how empty the room was. "Alright, you've got me there. I'll be right back." Alec let out a few choice words as soon as he was far enough from the table, cursing how slow Tuesday afternoons tended to be. Alec took his time in putting in the order and returning to the table with a glass of wine in his hand, not wanting to speak with a woman who could easily be his mother and have her flirt with him the whole time.

 _It'll be worth it when she pays_ , Alec reminded himself as he sat back down, resting his arms on the table as he sat across from her. "So, how're you doing, darling?" the woman asked, taking the glass in her hand and taking a sip. He watched as a pleased smile overtook her lips at the wine, then as her gaze refocused onto him.

"I'm okay," he answered automatically, shoulders tensed as he waited for his coworker to bring out the meal for her. It was then that he could get up and escape this. "I've been busy."

"I've noticed! You seem to be doing well for yourself, Alexander Gideon," Patricia breathed out a gentle laugh. "Everyone is bubbling with excitement over this next book of yours."

"Just Alec is fine," he tried to correct, but it fell on deaf ears.

"I mean, normally fantasy books are only big with the teens, but even my friends are just so amazed that we're so close. You'll have to come to one of my parties sometime so I can introduce you to everyone, they'd be so pleased," Patricia remarked, reaching over to grab the hand resting on the table. Of course she'd act like this. "They don't believe me that I know a famous author."

Alec's cheeks went red; from either embarrassment over the books or from the hand-grab, he didn't know. "I'm not that famous. You might want to introduce them to someone with a bit more name recognition."

"Well who doesn't know Alec Harding? You've hit the bestseller list twice, darling, that's nothing to be shy about," Patricia returned with a gentle smile. "Have any new tattoos?" she changed the subject quickly, glancing the the large one that had overtaken his neck.

Normally restaurants were particular about waiters hiding any tattoos they may have, but the boss was a friend of Alec's adoptive father and so had let it slide. Especially since no customer seemed to have any real problems with it. They were mostly just taken by Alec's excellent service so they hardly ever found room to complain about his appearance. The large 'z' shaped tattoo with a line in the middle had been one he'd gotten when he was fresh out of high school. He'd gotten a couple others past that, but he always was fond of that first one. "No, I haven't. I don't think I will," Alec explained quickly, shoulders becoming more tense the longer he sat there.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Freedman, I have to steal Alec away from you. He's in high demand today," his boss called out, setting a plate of pasta down on the table in front of her as Alec stood up from the booth.

"That he is, Sir, that he is."

* * *

The day passed quickly after that. By the time his shift was over, the sky was melting into the gold color of sunset. Alec would have stayed and watched the gold turn to the midnight blue of evening, but he knew that Beatrice would worry. They'd stuck close together ever since the accident just to prevent either of them from doing something they'd regret. It wasn't that Bea didn't trust him, it was more that he'd been known to hide his emotions behind closed doors and this wasn't something that should be held back.

"Alec!" Beatrice squealed as the apartment door opened. She was sitting on the couch with her foot propped against the edge of the coffee table so she could paint the nails there. His sister was already in her pajamas, curly hair pulled off her face and into a bun. Her contacts were out and she already had her glasses perched on her nose. "I didn't expect you back so soon. How was work?"

"It was fine. Mrs. Freedman came back," Alec shrugged, allowing a shiver to run down his back at the encounter he'd had that afternoon. Soon enough the man was standing in the small kitchen, pulling out the gallon of milk and a box of cereal. He alternated taking a swig from the milk and then popping a handful of cereal in his mouth.

"You're disgusting, you know that? I drink from that jug, too," Beatrice laughed, shaking her head at him. "Dad's coming over, by the way. He wanted to congratulate you on finishing this book...and complain because you won't let us read it."

"You have to wait like everyone else, Bea. Have a little patience," Alec laughed, jumping up to sit on the kitchen island and face the living room as he ate.

"But it won't come out for months! I have to know what happened to Michael! I mean, did he actually join the Circle? What about the vampires, are they gonna retaliate? I mean, you can't just leave it on the cliffhanger of a looming Uprising, what the hell, Alec!" Bea laughed, closing the nail polish bottle and relaxing further into the couch. "How do you even come up with this kinda stuff?"

Alec shrugged at that one, unsure of how to answer. He'd been having dreams about vampires, werewolves, and warlocks for years. Ever since he could remember he'd had dreams of beings called shadowhunters, angels and demons. Hell, he'd even dreamt up a civil war. He couldn't explain why he started dreaming of that stuff when he was just a kid, but the idea had been there since then. It got to the point where he couldn't help but to write it all down. The man had never expected the book to hit it big, but then all of a sudden he was working on the third book in the series; a series in which the first two books hit the New York Times bestsellers list.

After years of confusion and not fully fitting in anywhere, the world was finally beginning to come together for Alec Harding. He had a stable job, a book tour on the way, and a loving family who he was so lucky to have found. He didn't know what he would have done had Gerald Harding not adopted him when he was six years old. The adoption center hadn't been a terrible experience as many seemed to think, but he'd always wished for a family. He always wondered about his original parents that gave him up with no word. They simply had left him on the doorstep of the adoption center when he was three years old. Hadn't left a note, their names, anything. It was only through him that the center figured out his name was Alexander Gideon Lightwood, but even then his name was never entered in the government records. As far as the United States federal government was concerned, Alexander Lightwood had never been born, didn't even exist. That one had confounded the adoption center.

"Hey, Earth to Alec! Go get the door," Bea laughed, tossing one of the throw pillows at him.

"Fine, fine. Cool it," he returned quickly, hopping off the island to open the door for their father. A loose smile formed on his lips as the older man hugged him. "Hey, Dad."

"Hey, Mister Famous. What's this about you being on TV the other day?" his father greeted, pulling from the hug to close the door and walk fully into the apartment. "Why did I have to hear from Dahlia that you were on the Today show?"

"I didn't think it was a big deal," Alec answered, though a sheepish expression formed on his face as he realized he'd been caught.

"I'm starting to think you don't want us to know anything," his dad laughed, though quickly let it go. Alec had always been a secretive kid. The older man who'd adopted him simply thought it was because of how he was raised for three years before being unceremoniously dropped at a center. His blood always came to a boil when he thought about his son being abandoned like that. He knew Alec still had some vague memories of his biological parents and he knew that it still haunted the boy, even if he never wanted to admit it. "When's the book released? I'd love to go to the first book signing."

"Dad, I can sign the book for you anytime you want," Alec laughed, shaking his head at his father's antics.

"But I want to see you signing books like a famous person! Who knew I'd raise a kid to be nationally recognized? I mean, hell, between your writing and Bea's dancing, I-" Bea had stood up then. She stared at the two men before retreating into her room, muttering something about being tired and needing some rest before the next day. Her limp was apparent then, reminding the two of them how sensitive the topic of her dancing was. "Well, didn't mean to ruin the mood. She's still upset?"

"Yeah. She hasn't come to terms with it yet, still thinks she can fix it. Doctors have told her that she's lucky to even be walking, so ballet is pretty much out of the picture now," Alec spoke, making his way to the couch and sitting down, his father following suit. "I know she says she doesn't blame me, but I still can't help but feel like-"

"Don't do that to yourself, Alec. I'm serious. Who could have guessed that guy was gonna fly past a red light? He was texting and you weren't. That wasn't your fault," his Dad spoke earnestly, snapping his fingers until Alec's head lifted and turned to face him. "You've gotta stop blaming yourself for this. It happened months ago, it's in the past."

"But she's still paying for it. I was the one driving but she's the one paying for it," Alec spoke, sounding desperate as he did so.

"And you almost died." The words were so blunt Alec couldn't help but wince. He remembered waking up the horrible feeling of a tube down his throat, panicking until the nurses knocked him out so the doctor could remove the intubation tube. He could remember waking up and having his Dad tell him he'd been comatose for a week after emergency surgery. The straight scar down his chest reminded him of the surgery everyday, and the scar cutting across his eyebrow along with a few others scattered about his abdomen would remind him of the crash everytime he woke up without a shirt. "I hate that this happened to you two, but you have to start to move beyond it. No more guilt from you, and Bea can't keep acting like this. At some point she'll have to find a backup plan."

Of course, his Dad was correct. Alec knew it and yet it would take more than words for him to fully listen. "Actually, Bea's dragging me somewhere to some self-proclaimed miracle worker tomorrow. She's under the impression that this guy can fix her. I know it won't work, but hopefully this will convince her that she has to move on."

"Thank you for going with her," his Dad spoke then, "I don't want her to deal with this alone. You've always been so selfless. Maybe after this you can start to focus a little more on you."

"Yeah, maybe."

"Like maybe celebrating about this book of yours! It's not everyday that you hit the bestsellers list twice in a row. Maybe you and Bea could go down to this club I've been hearing so much about. Pandemonium?"

"Dad, are you telling me to get trashed and make some serious mistakes I'll forget about by morning?" Alec questioned, raising a brow at the older man.

"You've never let loose. I think it's about time to," his dad laughed earnestly.

"Okay, I'll think about it."

"And maybe start going on more dates. I think Dahlia's seriously into you, and she's so good for you."

"Dad, I'm not having this talk with you," Alec returned quickly, cheeks flushing with embarrassment over the discussion. His dad and Bea have been pestering him about his love life ever since he was a teenager. He was what you could consider popular in high school. He wasn't outgoing or even a little bit extroverted, but it had been clear from the beginning that he was a natural born leader. Alec was elected class president every year in high school and frequently made homecoming and prom court even when he didn't exactly what that kind of attention. Girls continuously flirted with him even when he showed no interest in them. He'd only ever had one girlfriend in his life, Dahlia, and while they were still friends now he was in no way attracted to her. "Dahlia's my best friend."

"Yeah, but you were so cute together! I still have those pictures from senior prom up in the house. I was so hoping you two were gonna get married!" Dad exclaimed, looking at his son with a bright smile on his face. When he'd done some researching on adoption, he'd learned that some kids never called their adoptive parents by 'Mom' or 'Dad', still clinging in some ways to the people that left them behind. He'd been so thankful that Alec instantly moulded into their family. Bea had been three when he was adopted into the family and while it took some adjustments, she quickly latched onto the older boy like they'd always been family. Of course, there were some snide comments by other parents at the school, mostly about the fact that him and Bea were black and Alec was as far from it as possible, but the older man had quickly learned to ignore it. It didn't matter how different they looked, the fact that Alec wasn't biologically related to either of them, because the trio had considered themselves family from the first day Gerald brought the boy home.

"Dad, I'm not getting back together with Dahlia," Alec chuckled, trying his hardest to shut down the topic of conversation. In his time as an adult, Alec had started to figure out that he wasn't interested in women. He'd gone to bars before and it was never the women he was drawn to, but rather the attractive men that had walked in. At first it had scared him, but Bea had been so supportive when he asked her about it. He just didn't have the courage to talk to his dad about it yet. Not because he didn't think Gerald would be supportive. On the contrary, the older man had always supported him in almost everything he did, but rather because that would make it _real_. He wasn't sure he was ready for that yet.

* * *

The two men had stayed up talking late into the night. Alec was exhausted by the time his alarm pulled him from sleep. He felt like cursing his past self for choosing to stay up so late. After all, he had a meeting with this miracle worker in a few short hours.

Eventually Alec had gotten ready for the day, dressed in black pants and a v-neck that was such a dark shade of blue it nearly appeared black in certain light. The man had never been one for extravagant dress, so unlike his sister who had to have brand-name everything and bright colors. The contrast was further proven when he entered the kitchen and saw his sister standing in a floral dress in bright colors and a black leather jacket, paired with black heels that were so high Alec was unsure any normal human being could ever walk in them realistically. "Bea, I love you, but isn't that dress a little, ah, bright?"

"It's Lilly Pulitzer! You know nothing," Bea exclaimed, soon laughing at her brother's fashion incompetency. "Besides, I want to look nice for this guy. I've heard he's hot."

"You've heard about this guy?"

"Well who hasn't? I was talking to Dahlia who talked to Charlotte who said that when she went to him for help with her health problems, he gave her something to drink and all of a sudden she wasn't having migraines anymore! And that he was drop dead gorgeous and totally fashion forward!" Bea explained excitedly.

"Okay, but aren't you banned from high heels?" He thought he remembered the girl's physical therapist expressly telling her that those types of shoes were bad for her health.

"Yeah, but a couple hours won't hurt. I promise, Alec. Now stop being a doting mother and come have breakfast with me." Thus the Harding siblings commenced their typical morning routine of sitting at the kitchen island and eating the pancakes, eggs, and bacon that Alec had cooked. He always was the cook in their family as Gerald had been hopeless and by the time Bea was old enough to learn Alec had already taken on the responsibility.

Eventually the two were standing outside of a different apartment, glancing to each other with nervous looks. This was Bea's last chance at returning to her previous life. She'd been attending Julliard for ballet; it was what she was meant to do and Alec hated that it had been stripped from her. He didn't know what he would do if he lost his identity, his purpose, just like that. Alec didn't have much faith in this Magnus person, but he would go along with it if it meant giving Bea some closure, one way or another. "Come in!" A voice shouted from inside the apartment, leaving Bea to turn the door handle and let the pair in.

The apartment was extravagant, to say the least. It was clear that whoever lived there had a sense of style. Perhaps in another life he and Bea would have been friends. Then a man was entering in the room. The sight literally took Alec's breath away. His copper skin was absolutely flawless, and there were clear signs of makeup by the kohl around the man's brown eyes and color on top. His hair was styled, and there were streaks of color through the front. The man wore a low-cut maroon shirt with several necklaces adorning his neck. When the man lifted his hand, Alec could see several rings on his fingers. The man had begun with a cool smile, but his expression quickly shifted to one of slight surprise. "You're Beatrice Harding?" the man, Magnus, asked, as if to ensure he had the right meeting set up.

"Yes, that's me," Bea spoke up, sounding totally awe-struck by both the apartment and the man. At least Alec wasn't the only one.

"And how do you know a Shadowhunter?" Magnus asked, causing Alec's brows to furrow in confusion. Was the man crazy?

"I'm sorry?" Alec spluttered out, surprised. He had written about such people but he'd long since known they weren't real, despite his insist nature as a kid. Then the man began to chuckle. "Oh, you must've read the book. Right, you're funny."

"There's no memory charm that I can sense...and you have the runes. Only the Nephilim can bear the runes," Magnus spoke in a low tone, as if he were only speaking to himself. "What's your name?"

"Uh, Alec," the man tried again, now sounding confused. What did the other guy mean, a memory charm? And was he really calling Alec's tattoos runes?

Alec didn't think he would see this confident man grow nervous. Truly, Alec thought he might have imagined the flicker of fear in the man's eyes before the confidence returned. "No. I'm sorry but you're going to have to leave. I'm not getting into the middle of that Lightwood mess, not again. I can help you, Beatrice, but not while Alexander is here."

It was clear Bea was going to protest, after all there was no reason to shove out Alec, but the twenty-three year old quickly stopped her. "It's okay, Bea. I'll be right outside." The man exited the apartment and leaned his back against the hallway wall. There were so many questions he wanted to ask Magnus. Why did he know about Shadowhunters, and why did he assume Alec was one? Why did he seem nervous about having the man in his apartment? The even bigger question gnawed at Alec's heart, resurfacing feelings he'd long since shoved away. How did Magnus Bane know his original surname was Lightwood, and what was the mess he was referring to?

Alec would have to reopen the investigation into the family that left him behind, the investigation he'd gladly given up when Gerald and Beatrice Harding welcomed him into their family.

* * *

 **A/N: I hope you liked this chapter. That's certainly not the end of Magnus and Alec; Magnus can't avoid the "Lightwood Mess". ;) I hope this chapter lived up to expectations. I'd love to hear what you think! Until next time!**


	3. The Shadow World

_"Momma!" Large arms carried him, held him back from the one person he wanted to be near. The fighting from the previous night had scared him and now he couldn't even be with his mother. The words that she'd been whispering didn't fully make sense to the toddler, but he clung to them as if they could be his life raft for the time they were separated. "Momma!" he tried again, desperate now as the woman only stood there, tear tracks on her face. She wasn't even trying to get him back, she wasn't even fighting for him._

 _"I'm so sorry, baby, I'm so sorry," she was speaking, again and again even as her voice broke from the emotion weighing her down. "Don't forget, you'll always be a shadowhunter. You'll always be a Lightwood, Alec."_

* * *

Alec hadn't had such dreams since he was a child. How had he forgotten? The memory was clearly from when he was left at the adoption center. Yet, Alec had never seen the ornate building the memory took place in, at least not in person. Was his mother crazy, was that why he was separated from her? Was he writing books about her crazy fantasies? Or, the more haunting thought lingered; was he writing books about a real and secret part of the world? Was he endangering his mother just by writing? If she didn't want him to go, why did she send him away?

It had been two days since his and Bea's meeting with the miracle worker, and while the trip had brought his sister some peace of mind it had only sparked more divide in his own. What was the 'Lightwood mess' that was referenced, and why had he been separated from it? Was the mess the reason why he grew up as a Harding, or was it simply the fact that he wasn't wanted? Alec hadn't dealt with feelings of abandonment since he was a child, since those first few years with his adoptive family, yet they seemed to come back full force now that the issue was dug back up.

The man shook his head to bring himself back to reality, to center himself as he finished getting ready for the night out. Ever since Magnus had cured Bea's limp, she'd been begging Alec for a night on the town. Of course, she could have gone alone but the pair were practically inseparable, especially after all that had occurred months before. Alec had been too busy having an existential crisis to worry about going out.

Now though, he stood in an outfit picked out by Bea, almost regrettably. She'd somehow managed to talk him into a pair of black pants that were just a bit tighter than he was used to, and a navy blue button-up that had too many of the buttons undone for his personal taste. The scar he'd tried his hardest to hide for months peeked out of the top thanks to the peek of skin from the unbuttoned portion of shirt, reminding him of the surgery that had saved his life. He remembered them being puzzled that day, saying that his body had an adverse reaction to the blood transfusions that they hadn't been expecting. It was a reaction that didn't make any medical sense and sent him spiralling into a battle for his life they thought he'd evaded with the surgery. Perhaps it had something to do with his origins, but even thinking it sounded crazy.

"And you say I take forever to get ready!" Bea called from the hallway. Alec could hear her heels pacing against the wood floors of their apartment. She'd moved in with him just after the accident, mostly so he could help her with all of the things she could no longer do on her own, but also because they'd all been so scared of how close Alec had come to being lost to them. "Are you rea-damn you look good!" Bea exclaimed when he stepped into the hallway, messing with the cuff of his shirtsleeve absentmindedly. "You're gonna break some hearts again tonight!"

"I don't break hearts, Bea," Alec countered, grabbing his wallet from the counter and slipping it into his back pocket.

"I think that's what one night stands are, brother. There's nothing wrong with it, but I'm sure most of those guys would appreciate having more than one night w-okay, okay, let's go," Bea began, but soon cut off with a laugh upon seeing the look Alec was giving her.

Soon enough the pair were inside a club. Bea had quickly left Alec to his own devices, finding her own entertainment in one of the attractive guys on the dance floor. Alec instead found himself along the outer edge, drink in hand as he observed the mass of people in the center. It didn't take long until there was someone beside him, completely unfamiliar but admittedly attractive. "Not much of a dancer?" the stranger probed, glancing to Alec curiously. The man's chestnut hair seemed perfectly styled, as if he'd been planning for this night as much as Bea and Alec had.

"No. This isn't really my scene. I'm here for my sister, but she's seem to have run off," Alec returned simply, looking away to make it clear he never intended to stare at the other man. After all, who knew what the other guy's intentions were in talking to him? The other man smirked as if he knew something about the situation that Alec didn't, but he just chalked up to the guy having had one too many drinks. "I'm Alec," he finally thought to introduce, figuring neither him nor the man beside him had any intention of walking away.

"Alec, huh? Is that short for Alexander?" the stranger probed, declining to give away his own name for the moment; Alec supposed it made him mysterious, if that was what the man was going for.

"Yeah, I guess so, but nobody really calls m-"

"That's an interesting mark you've got there, Alec. Is there a story behind it?" the man asked, raising a brow and gesturing lightly to the tattoo situated on the side of his neck. "Certainly there must be, for one so visible."

The young man shrugged in response, finishing off his drink and setting it on one of the tables near them. He would be lying if he didn't admit that perhaps he'd had one too many as the fog was slowly slipping into his brain. "No. It was a design I thought of when I was sixteen." Alec could still remember nervously asking his dad to allow him to get a tattoo as a minor, thinking the man would be wildly opposed to the idea. Instead, Gerald offered to drive him down to the tattoo parlor that day to get the papers signed, and soon enough Alec was returning to school with the design neatly imprinted on his skin. He could remember feeling bare without the mark on his neck, as if he were absolutely meant to get the tattoo. He'd gotten a couple others that were meaningful, but never one as noticeable or as strange as the one on his neck.

Alec hadn't noticed how close the man had gotten to him until then. Suddenly his back was pressed to the wall, shirt riding up slightly, the man standing firmly in front of him. "Do you have a name?" Alec whispered against the man's lips, now hovering centimeters from Alec's. The stranger kept a commanding grip on the author's hips, ensuring the younger remained confined against the wall. Alec fought to keep his hazel eyes trained on the man, but the captivating movements of the man won out and soon his gaze turned black as Alec focused solely on what was happening.

If Alec had been paying more attention, he would have realized the man never answered. Instead, when the man asked, "Do you wanna get out of here?", Alec simply nodded. He allowed the stranger to lead him out of the building, a hand protectively resting on the small of his back to guide him out.

They were barely out of the building when the man turned on him again, pressing Alec to the wall with more force than before. A breath was sucked out of Alec's lips as his body collided harshly with the brick, shirt riding up and causing his skin to scratch irritatingly against the brick. "Who knew it'd be that easy?" the man chuckled, giving Alec a smirk as he watched the realization cross the younger man's face. Alec was so used to going home with men he'd met at clubs that he'd never once taken pause to think about the strange behaviors this stranger had been exhibiting. Now, though, it was too late. Alec squirmed, trying to find any leverage against the man but strangely finding nothing of the sort. Panic began to set in then, adrenaline coursing through Alec's system as he attempted to fight against the hold on him. "I know you were exiled before you could take any Marks, but I thought the fight might still be in you, Nephilim," the man spoke, spitting the last word at Alec as if it were an insult.

"I don't know what you're talking about!" Alec shouted, hoping dearly that someone, anyone, would hear the noise from the alley they were in. He was cursing the volume of the music from the club that drowned out his shouts even from outside the building. Alec was truly on his own in this situation. Nephilim? Did this man accuse Alec of being the product of angels? Was Alec about to be brutally murdered by an insane person? "I was never exiled from anywhere. I've always lived in New York," Alec tried, "You have the wrong guy."

Another laugh from the stranger, his grip on Alec's hips tightening. The author could feel the man's nails digging into the skin there, could feel liquid slipping against his skin and cooling it as the blood hit the chilled night air. "Tsk, tsk, lying's not very angelic of you, now is it, young Nephilim?" the man chuckled, shaking his head at Alec's panicked hazel eyes. "We all know you're Alexander Lightwood of Idris, there's no hiding from us. Especially when you get a mundane tattoo of a Shadowhunter rune and write books about the Shadow World. You have it surprisingly close for someone who was kicked out as a toddler."

Close? Alec's heart slammed against the bottom of his stomach as he heard the man speak. This man was absolutely insane if he was claiming the world Alec had created was real. Even scarier still was the fact that the stranger knew Alec's given birth name and not the surname he'd taken on when he was adopted. As far as he knew, the Lightwood name had not been documented anywhere and was a secret just for him and his family, and yet this was the second person within a couple days to speak it unprompted.

"Don't worry, the mundanes will forget about you soon enough. They tend to do that." Alec would have panicked, but his head was slamming back into the brick wall before he could even think about any words to scream. He could vaguely feel slumping to the pavement beneath him before the world was lost to him.

* * *

 _"What are you doing, Alec?" an amused voice called out to the boy as he stood in the doorway of the bedroom, arms crossed over his chest. He appeared more like a parent catching his child in the act of breaking the rules rather than a toddler watching his mother prepare for the day. Maryse was pulling on her Shadowhunter gear, strapping the bracers to her forearms with ease and ensuring she had all the weapons she could possibly need in reach._

 _"Momma, I don't want you to go," the boy spoke, taking a step toward her but soon hesitating, as if he weren't allowed to reach her._

 _The scene nearly broke the woman's heart. She was doing this for him, for her precious boy who deserved the best possible world to grow up in. He didn't deserve to deal with a world in which demons and the Downworlders who spawned from them were allowed to run amuck without proper watch from the Shadowhunters. The Clave had failed all of the young Nephilim, and it was up to the Circle to fix their mess. If only a toddler could understand as much. "Oh, Alec, come here," she called, bending down so the little boy could wrap his small arms around her when he sprinted to her. His hazel eyes were glassy with the tears he was trying hard to hold back. "I'll be right back. This will be quick."_

 _"But why do you have to go?" he asked, not understanding why she was arming herself so heavily. "Why you?"_

 _"We're Shadowhunters, Alec," Maryse explained. She'd already explained to him what they were, where they came from, and what their mission was, but perhaps he didn't understand the level of commitment to said mission yet. "We're here to fight the evil demons, right?" When Alec nodded, Maryse gave him a smile of pride. "We have to do everything we can to make sure the demons stay away. I can't let everyone else do it without helping. We can only win if everyone helps."_

 _"Then I wanna go!" Alec shouted, the tears drying almost instantly as the child was instilled with a surge of passion and determination. He attempted a roundhouse kick only to land completely on his butt, pulling a laugh from the nervous mother in front of him._

 _"Not yet, baby. You have to wait until you're older, when you can wear the Marks of our people," Maryse explained, holding out her arm so he could trace the black lines decorating them. Her only child loved to trace them with his little fingers, always so awe-struck by the patterns and constantly beg her for his own. "Soon, but not yet, my little warrior. You'll be one of the best, you'll make us Lightwoods so proud."_

 _Of course, every child had a short attention span. Alec dropped the thought quickly much like any typical toddler, but instead renewed an idea that was so mature it shocked even Maryse. Instead of begging her to let him help, to let him draw a rune on himself, to do anything for his own wellbeing, Alec offered a show of his incredible selflessness. "But I wanna help sister. I wanna help you protect her!" he shouted, his lisp more clear in the sentence than before._

 _"Oh, Alec, she'll be safe. She's here with me, I won't let anything happen to her, I promise," Maryse offered, pressing a kiss to his forehead before standing up. She would have to leave with Robert to fight against other Shadowhunters. Alec didn't understand why but he'd heard his father saying it was because the other Shadowhunters weren't doing what they were supposed to. "You're absolutely perfect, my little Shadowhunter."_

* * *

When Alec next awoke, his head burned. It felt foggy with not only a slight hangover but also the pain of what had to be a mild concussion. It took a few moments for his vision to clear up and reveal the room he was now stuck in. Alec was propped up in the corner of a concrete room, metal cuffs around his wrists to restrain them together. There was a man standing in the room, arms folding behind his back and a smirk clear on his face.

"Alec Lightwood. My, how you've grown up," the man spoke, tearing Alec's attention from his surroundings and how he got to be there.

"How do you know that name?" Alec returned, fear seeping into his body once more. He was kidnapped by a different man. What did the pair want with him? Did it have anything to do with what that Magnus guy had mentioned? "I'm Alec Harding. I think you're mistaken a-"

"No, my dear boy. You've been misled your entire life. You've been led to believe that you're nothing more than a mundane boy, an orphan to be pitied," the man continued, stepping ever closer to the twenty-six year old in front of him. Alec wanted to stand up but quickly found his legs were too weak to hold his weight, leaving him slumped on the ground under the other man. "You're far from it."

"I don't understand," Alec simply returned, hoping once the man was through with whatever he wanted to tell him that Alec could attempt an escape.

"Of course not. How could you? I'm flattered you wrote about me, by the way, but you have some facts wrong there," the man continued, "But I must say, the information is impressively accurate for a three year old's observations." Was this guy crazy? Alec ran through the list of characters in his book, trying desperately to figure out who this man thought he was. How could this man claim to have known him as a kid?

"Do you know my birth parents? You know where they are?" Alec asked before he could think about how insane it sounded. Was he seriously going to trust his kidnapper to answer honestly? He knew he should've been fighting by now, but something in him told Alec that he needed to hear this.

"The Lightwoods?" the man scoffed, shaking his head. "Why do you care where they are? They abandoned you all because the Clave told them to." At Alec's confused look, the man sighed. "I supposed I should start from the beginning." He pulled up a chair to sit in front of Alec, though at a distance, and crossed one leg over the other as he spoke. "You know about the Shadow world, at least somewhat. The Shadowhunters you wrote about? They're real. It's all real. The Clave is the ruling body of the Shadowhunters, meant to be dedicated to erasing the effects of demons on this world. Yet, they make compromises with Downworlders-werewolves, fey, vampires, warlocks-and ignore the fact that they're spawned from these demonic forces. The Clave lost sight of their true mission. Your parents used to understand that and joined me on my mission to purify the Shadowhunter mission," the man explained. "Then they abandoned the cause in fear of their own lives. They were selfish. The Clave told them to abandon one of their children to the mundane world as a show of loyalty, and they chose to give you up without any opposition."

The name came to him amongst the information overload. "You're Valentine," Alec spoke, voice small due to the confusion wracking his brain. He could remember the character clearly enough from his books; the leader of the small group of resistance fighters. "This is real?" His head ached as he tried to sift through all of the information being thrown at him from both Valentine and his books.

"Yes, good!" the man exclaimed as his name was remembered. "I know this is a lot, but it's time you knew. I've been trying to find you for years even when your parents ignored your existence. No Shadowhunter should ever be denied the right to live their life properly, should ever be forced to live as a mundane." Valentine sounded particularly disgusted by the idea of living a mundane life, Alec noted, just as the character in his book had been. "It was only when the Downworlders began speaking rumors about you a couple days ago that I was able to find you." Magnus, Alec realized. He supposed he couldn't be upset at the warlock, for it led him to someone who could explain the world to him.

"They never came for me? My parents?" Alec asked then, scared to know the answer but knowing he needed to ask. If only for confirmation of the answer he was already expecting.

"The Lightwoods were adamant that you were never supposed to know of this world, but I knew you deserved better, Alec," Valentine spoke, a look of almost pity crossing his features before returning to a more guarded and neutral expression.

"Why did you kidnap me? Who was that other man?" Alec asked.

"He was a part of my ranks," Valentine spoke, "A part of the resistance. I knew you would never understand if we infiltrated your mundane world and tried to explain. I had to bring you here, where there would be no distractions. I never meant to hurt you, and you can leave as you wish, Alec." Somehow Alec knew that wasn't completely accurate, but he couldn't think to protest that moment. "After all, you have Shadowhunter blood and we can be clever, conniving people. This was all necessary until I knew I could trust you."

"And do you?" Alec asked, watching the other man closely. He wasn't quite sure what to think anymore, but he was beginning to think that perhaps he could trust this man. At least he was trying to give Alec back an integral part of himself he'd lost twenty-three years prior.

"Absolutely. After all, we are both victims in this situation. Victims of the Clave," Valentine answered quickly, gaze focused on the younger male sitting in front of him. "We can help each other."

"How?" Alec asked, raising a brow. He wasn't quite sure how any of this was possible, but he supposed he had to trust the man. Something deep inside him let Alec know that what Valentine was saying was true. The Shadow World existed and he was meant to be a part of it. That would explain why Alec never quite fit in with the rest of the world around him, and it would certainly explain why he hadn't existed in the mundane systems before he was a toddler abandoned on the steps of the adoption center. He could clearly remember being taken from his mother and his parents simply standing there, doing nothing to stop him from leaving. Alec supposed Valentine had to be correct in that sense then, too; his parents willingly gave him up and kept him from the life he was meant to live.

"You want to be a part of this world again, and I need a spy. I'll teach you how to be a proper Shadowhunter if you go to the New York Institute, the base of the Clave in this city, and become a part of the ranks. If their problematic ways are to be fixed, then I need to know what their plans are," Valentine explained. "Can you do this for me?"

It did seem a little dangerous. This was nothing like the life he'd lived for two decades, and for that Alec was terrified. He had the feeling this man would not take no for an answer, but he also had the feeling that Alec himself wouldn't allow a decline of the offer. If the Clave truly was as damaging as this man made it sound, then Alec would help him. In return, he could have the life he was always meant for. When Alec nodded, Valentine smirked, eyes alight with victory. "Fantastic. We can begin training now, Alexander. Say goodbye to your mundane life. You'll be my greatest ally yet."

* * *

 **A/N: So, there it is! I'd love to know what you thought of this chapter, and I hope you enjoyed it! Thank you.**


	4. A History Lesson

The heavy manacles dropped against the concrete with a sharp clang as they were unlocked from Alec's wrists. The young man was thankful for the freedom and rubbed at the skin which had turned pink with slight irritation from the metal. The irritation indicated that Alec had been locked in that room for most of the night if not the better part of the next day. "We're starting now?" Alec asked with concerned filling his voice. "I have to talk to my dad and sister, they'll be so worried if I don't come home," he added, as if to convince the man in front of him that it was a good idea to release him fully.

"You can't go back to your mundane life that easy, Alec," Valentine began to explain, crossing his arms over his chest as he stood to full height. With the way Alec was still sitting, the other man stood with dominance over the younger male. "Think about it. Demons can come after them if you go back. You'll lead the danger right to your family. You don't want that, do you?"

As much as Alec hated to admit it, the man before him had a point. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt Bea anymore than he already had. She'd just fixed the limp that he basically caused, how could he bring more danger to her? They were better off with him staying put. "They'll call the police. Everyone will be looking for me," Alec reasoned, wondering how this man could possibly keep them hidden. After all, the police likely wouldn't take kindly to fantasy stories about demons and angels, not regarding a kidnapping case.

"You put too much faith in the mundane police. There are ways for us to hide," Valentine explained. "I have to take my leave, but I will send another Shadowhunter in to explain all of this to you and answer any questions you have. You can trust him." With that, the man stood up and headed out of the room, closing the heavy door behind him.

The 'other Shadowhunter' that was supposed to arrive didn't come soon enough, leaving Alec alone in the room. Upon further inspection, he could see that there was only one small window in the room and it opened into an alleyway. There was nothing interesting to look at outside except a brick wall and a dumpster on the other side of the alley. The walls and floor of the room were made of the same concrete and didn't appear to be failing anytime soon. There were some scratches and markings that caused an uneasy feeling to settle within him; how many others were truly trapped in this room before? What had happened to the others? Alec had to wonder what would have happened to _him_ had he not agreed to Valentine's plan. The Shadow World was certainly much different from the mundane one he always knew, that much was clear.

What felt like an hour later, the door opened. Alec spun on his heels to come face-to-face with a man who had to have been about his age. Dark hair was cut cleanly and brown eyes shone bright as he looked on at Alec. There were black drawings all over his body, peeking out from the dark clothes he wore. "You're Alec Lightwood, right?" the male asked, setting the two staffs he was carrying in the corner of the room before crossing to stand directly in the center. "I'm Ryland Brookwater."

"Okay, nice to meet you," Alec tried, not noticing he'd been backing up until the cool wall sent chills down his spine at the contact. The black markings were normal, Alec supposed, for a Shadowhunter. What intensified the nervous feeling in his chest was the circle on the boy's neck that looked intentional but almost appeared like a burn scar. Had he done that to himself? Would Alec be expected to do the same?

"I'll be in charge of your training. We can't send you to the Institute if you don't know what you're doing. But first, I'm sure you have a lot of questions for me," Ryland finally spoke, walking to the back wall and sitting down against it. Alec paused only for a second before sitting beside him, appreciating the peer-like gesture rather than the posture of superiority that Valentine had carried as he sat above Alec. "It'll be overwhelming for you. Most people grow up in this world so learn all of this over the course of years. You'll have to learn this as quickly as possible, Valentine can be impatient."

"Valentine, he's...the leader? Of the Shadowhunters?" Alec asked finally, noticing the way Valentine gave orders so easily and the way Ryland spoke of him.

A chuckle from Ryland there. "Not quite. The Clave is the governing body of the Shadowhunters. It's a group of people serving together as the leading body. Valentine broke away years ago because the Clave wasn't doing their job right. He's the leader of a resistance group, one dedicated to overthrowing the Clave and setting up a new, better government for the Shadowhunters. One that actually rules as it should. That's the Circle," he explained.

"Is that the, uh-" Alec began to ask, gesturing wordlessly to his neck. The explanation seemed as good as any, but the scarring seemed like a bit much.

"Yeah, this is a sign of loyalty to the Circle," Ryland answered, nodding his head. "It's drawn like a rune, but since it isn't an official rune technically, it burns like this. I don't think you'll have to get this mark, considering you're a spy for the Circle. They'd arrest you in two seconds flat if you walked into the Institute with this mark. They hate the Circle for clear reasons. We're gaining ground, they feel threatened by us." It sounded like something out of a dystopian novel, Alec noted. A tyrannical, harsh government against a resistance movement that was having to use increasingly more drastic actions to take them down.

"The guy who took me. He didn't call me a Shadowhunter, he called me a..." Alec began, searching for the proper word.

"Nephilim? It's another word for our kind. We're not just human, we have angel blood in our veins too. The story goes that the angels created us as a frontline against the increasing demonic presence in the world. Our job was to help the angels to fight against the demons, keep from from overtaking the world. We haven't seen an angel in centuries, but we keep up our fight. It's our one purpose, to fight an everlasting war," Ryland explained. "That's why you have to learn how to fight. Shadowhunter kids began training as soon as possible. We grow up soldiers because that's our purpose in life." Alec could remember his mother mentioning him being too young for training, too young to fight alongside her. He could remember the pure want to do what his parents did. It must be relieving for kids growing up in that world; they never had to question their purpose in life, it was always deeping ingrained in them. Alec could also remember his years in high school, panicking because he couldn't find a topic of study that interested him. It seemed that none of the careers his school was suggesting would work for him. Alec had truly wondered if he could ever fit in the world. He supposed this was why; he was never meant to fit in the mundane world, he didn't have a purpose there. His purpose was with the Shadowhunters fighting demons, as crazy as it sounded.

"How did you guys find me?" Alec finally asked, the question nipping at the edges of his mind since he woke up in the room. If he could be found so easily, why had no one bothered him in the twenty-three years he's lived as a member of the Harding family? "Why wouldn't you guys take me in earlier?"

"We would've," Ryland answered quickly, though allowed himself a full moment to think before he expanded on the answer. "Valentine had the Circle trying to find evidence of you living somewhere. He knew the Clave exiled you to New York City, but there are so many mundane children living in the city. It would have been impossible to find you until you found your way back to the Shadow World on your own, and you did." Ryland barked out a laugh at the look of shock on Alec's face. "What, do you think no one watches the High Warlock of Brooklyn? Some Downworlder saw a man walk into that building that had the features of Alec Lightwood and even had what looked like a rune. Word spread quickly that the lost Lightwood son had returned. Well, Valentine knew where to look then."

It all seemed so impossible. He felt more like the protagonist of a novel rather than a real, living human being. Though, Alec supposed he wasn't _entirely_ human then, was he? When Alec asked no further questions, Ryland nodded and pulled out what looked like a piece of marbled stone, pointed at the end. "We won't go too far, but it's important that you begin being runed. We'll give you a couple of permanent runes now. These are marks that only the Nephilim can bear as they draw strength from the angels. These runes can be used in battle," Ryland began explaining as he moved to sit in front of Alec rather than beside him. He grabbed the black-haired male's right hand, hovering the stone just over it. "This is a stele, what we use to draw these runes. I'll give you the one that hones in your Sight now."

"I already have 20/20 vision," Alec noted dumbly.

Another laugh from Ryland there. "No, not vision," he cackled, shaking his head. Finally the other man was able to calm himself enough to actually voice an explanation. "Mundanes usually can't see the Shadow World. They would never see the telltale signs of vampires, werewolves, demons. They don't see the Institutes around the world or Shadowhunter weaponry. Most Shadowhunters are born with the Sight to see past the glamour around them, but this rune allows it to be a subconscious effort to see rather than one that has to always be practiced and actively put into effect. Make sense?" When Alec nodded, Ryland held up the stele again. "This will probably burn. It gets easier the more runes you apply."

Ryland was under exaggerating the pain that stemmed from the stele. The instant the stone touched Alec's skin, he was on fire. He bit his lip in an attempt to stifle a shout of pain, but still a few sounds slipped as Ryland drew the black lines on the back of his hand. The seconds felt like minutes but soon enough the stone withdrew from his hand and Alec was left with only a lingering stinging feeling. "I know it hurts, but we should do another, too. How about the rune you remembered? That tattoo on your neck is the deflect rune. When it's activated, Shadowhunters can't track you. This will be a good one to have." It felt like the skin there was more sensitive than on his hand. Possibly it was because there was already ink underneath the skin, but maybe because Alec could feel the pulsing from his carotid grow sharper with the continued burn of the stele just over it. It was a relief when the rune was drawn, just overlapping the tattoo. "Get some rest, and then we'll move on to some combat training," Ryland returned, standing and soon exiting the room to allow Alec a moment to gather himself physically and mentally.

In what Alec assumed to be just a day, his entire life had changed for better or for worse. There was never any doubt that Alec's childhood before adoption was a mystery. The man could distinctly remember Gerald asking and digging, trying to find any link to a family before him. As far as the United States government was concerned, the Lightwood family had never existed as Alec claimed to know them. Not only that, but he'd always seemed to heal just a bit faster than Bea ever could, and then there was the hospital incident after the car wreck. Had the angel blood within him protested being further diluted with mundane, was that why he'd very nearly died that night?

The Shadow World was crazy. Alec was undoubtedly impressed with himself for remembering key points about the world after only being immersed in it for the first three years of his life. There was still a lot he'd missed; he hadn't called the governing body the Clave and a lot about the particular events and marks he'd forgotten. Still, the basic fact remained that despite what the Lightwoods apparently wanted to have happen, Alec remembered the world he was meant to live in. He just wished the next rune he got would burn a lot less than the first two.

It wasn't long before Ryland was making another appearance, dressed the same though carrying a look of greater importance, as if he knew how vital this was to Alec. "Every Shadowhunter has to be a proficient fighter. You won't last two seconds on a mission if you can't defend yourself. Good thing you're learning from one of the best. I was top of class in my year," Ryland explained, gesturing with his hand for Alec to stand up. "Are you familiar with any fighting?"

"I've been taking martial arts classes since I was ten," Alec returned, wondering if that was sufficient enough. Gerald had insisted he learn how to fight back when he was in middle school and a group of boys attacked him in the hallway. Just a few weeks later Gerald had gotten a call from the school that Alec had broken a kid's nose. When the man drove to the school to pick up Alec, the boy was already sitting in the principal's office and taking the consequences without protesting. Alec could still remember the look of pride that had washed over Gerald Harding's face that day; it had been a look that made Alec forget that Gerald wasn't his biological father. For all he knew, he was always meant to be a Harding.

"That's a good start," Ryland spoke, "That'll make it easier for you to fit in." Without warning, Ryland shot his arm out to hit Alec. The other man responded quickly, but the fist still caught him in the shoulder as he mostly dodged the hit. "Always be ready. Shadowhunters are always paying attention to their surroundings, focused on finding any irregularity."

Alec didn't know how many times it took Ryland knocking him on his ass before he started to get the hang of it. All the man knew was that by the time the day was over, his ass hurt from falling so many times and he was finally able to deflect attacks properly. His movements were still choppy compared to the grace Ryland carried when he moved, but Alec had a feeling that he would get better the more he practiced on it. After all, he didn't really have much of a choice.

Eventually, the two men ended up in their original spots on the ground, backs against the wall. Ryland had his legs all the way stretched out while Alec brought one knee up, draping his arm over it. His heart rate hadn't completely returned to normal but at least his breathing was no longer as severe as it was just moments before. "So what's your story?" Alec asked, continuing when he noticed the look Ryland gave him, "I mean, how'd you end up here. With the Circle."

Enough silence passed between them that Alec truly believed the other man chose to ignore him. It was only when Alec gave up on a response that he actually got one. "I grew up in Alicante, as most kids do. When I was old enough I was sent to the New York Institute where I served as a Shadowhunter under the Head of Institute there, Robert Lightwood." Alec's breath hitched in his throat at the mention of the man. His parents lived this close to him this entire time, and not once had they attempted to see him? If Alec hadn't already lost faith in his birth parents, he did in that very moment. "I began noticing the favoritism there. The Clave and Head of Institute allowed some Downworlders to get away with shady business just by paying them off. It wasn't right. So, when I was contacted by someone in the Circle, I ran away from the Institute. As far as they know, I'm dead. Missing in action."

"Damn. Any family?" Alec asked, glancing sideways to the other dark-haired man. He wasn't totally sure if he wanted to hear the answer.

"I lived with my dad in Idris. Mom was killed by a demon when I was six. It was something we all have to prepare for. The average lifespan for a Shadowhunter is about thirty-two, so considering she made it to twenty-six was pretty damn good," Ryland began to explained, further noting how dark the Shadow World could be. The lifespan for a Shadowhunter was infinitesimally smaller than that of a mundane who with proper medicine and care could not uncommonly reach a century old. A shudder ran through Alec at the thought that according to Shadowhunter standards he was old. "I've made some good friends in New York though, we're all practically family there. Wish I could've stayed."

"So, I'm just going to walk into the Institute and announce I'm the missing Lightwood kid?" Alec asked, sounding skeptical of the plan. If they hadn't wanted him in the world in the first place, what made Valentine think that they'd accept him now?

"No," Ryland returned, pausing as if he wasn't sure if he was allowed to give away the plan yet. Eventually, though, the man decided it was better to inform Alec on the plan than keep him in the dark. It certainly built the man's trust in the Circle. "I went missing a year and a half ago. It would be natural for them to think I was taken. We'll plant you in a building, rough you up a bit, and you'll pretend to be me. They'll 'rescue' you after being given some intel, and there you go. I'm already a trusted figure in the Institute, and you look somewhat like me. We just have to make sure you have the right scars and the right permanent runes to match me."

The plan was ridiculous. Studying Ryland's features now, Alec could begin to see the resemblance. His dark hair was cut clean and crisp unlike Alec's slightly messy hair, but that could easily be explained. If he were truly held captive for nearly two years then he wouldn't have had a well-kept haircut. Alec wasn't weak by any means but it was clear Ryland had more muscle and just more body mass to him. Again, that could be explained by malnourishment in the time. Plus, Alec figured in his training he would build more muscle than he thought possible for himself. They were about the same height and though Alec's eyes more hazel compared to Ryland's brown ones, the man had to admit that they had some uncanny similarities. As long as Alec knew what he was talking about when it came to the Shadow World and as long as he remembered to be addressed by Ryland's name, then the plan could work at least for as long as the Circle needed it to. "Okay," Alec answered simply, nodding his head as the plan solidified in his mind.

"Okay? That's it?" Ryland laughed then, shaking his head. "Guess you're more of a Shadowhunter than I thought, just going with the plan and trusting we know what we're doing like that." It was a relieving thought, that perhaps he could make it in this world after all, just not as Alexander Gideon Lightwood.

* * *

 **A/N: There we have it! Maybe not an exciting chapter but certainly an important one. Thanks for reading and for reviewing, I truly appreciate it! I'd love to know what you thought of this one.**


	5. Infiltration

"What's your name?" the voice commanded as an arm flew out at Alec's right. Alec turned his staff to block the blow from the opposing staff as he returned quickly, "Ryland Michael Brookewater." There was little time to think as blow after blow and question after question was thrown at him.

"How old are you?" "Twenty-three."

"Where are you from?" "Idris."

"Where have you been for the past year and a half?" "I was taken by the Circle while I was out walking. I was interrogated for information but I didn't give anything. They took my stele, I couldn't get out."

"Who makes up the family of the Head of Institute at New York?" "Robert and Maryse Lightwood. Jace Wayland, adopted when he was ten. Max Lightwood, the youngest. And uh..."

"And who else?!" Ryland fired at Alec, managing to get a blow to his side while the other man was thinking. Alec's ribs erupted into pain; there'd be a decently-sized bruise he'd have to iratze away when the training was over. "Isabelle! Isabelle Lightwood, the eldest."

"Did you forget one?" "No. Alexander Lightwood isn't talked about anymore. We pretend he didn't exist." The words felt mechanic out of his mouth as if he weren't actually talking about himself. Finally, the training stopped all at once, Ryland dropping his staff and grinning.

"You did it," Ryland returned, wiping sweat from his brow before clapping Alec on the shoulder. "I'll tell Valentine and we could have you at the Institute in a couple of days. Look, I know it's been rough, but this'll be worth it in the end. I really appreciate what you're doing for us. Valentine would never tell you that, but he knows he needs you." In the time Alec had been with the Circle, his visits with Valentine became few and far between. In fact, the only person he saw on a daily basis was Ryland and it was mostly to train, though through his training he'd come to know the other man. It was clear why Ryland was a trusted member of this group; he was charming, hard-working, and was definitely a fantastic asset in a fight. It would be tough to keep up that personality when Alec was sent into the Institute. Ryland had quickly become a steadying force for Alec where every visit from Valentine sent him uneasy again.

Not moments later did said man enter the training room. In the time Alec had been there, he'd been moved out of the holding cell and into an actual bedroom like the others and was given access to the training facility where he and Ryland spent most of their time. "How is training coming along?" Valentine called out, ignoring Alec entirely and watching only his trainer.

"He's ready, sir," Ryland returned, glancing to Alec with a small smile. It would be a relief to get out of the building and actually do something helpful.

Valentine walked carefully toward Alec, his eyes never leaving the trainee's. He stopped only when he was just in front of Alec, staring him down intently. "What's your name?"

"Ryland Brookewater," Alec answered instantaneously. It had taken days to get the reaction right, at first he'd begun to answer with his own name before remembering who he was pretending to be.

"Where's Alec Lightwood?" Valentine asked further.

"No one knows," Alec returned, trying to keep his voice steady despite feeling uncomfortable this close to the other man. Before he could realize what was happening, Alec's cheek burned brightly and a shock ran through his system. Valentine had slapped him, undoubtedly leaving a bright red handprint there.

"No. From here on out, _Alexander Lightwood is dead_ ," Valentine returned. "You're Ryland Brookewater from here on out. Forget who you were before or you will mess up. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir," Alec gritted out, wanting nothing more than to hit Valentine back but knowing better than to act upon such wishes.

"Good. Let's get you dressed and ready for the Institute to find you. Ryland?" When the other Circle soldier nodded, Valentine left the room looking quite pleased with himself.

There was silence once more between the pair as Ryland guided Alec down more hallways and across an alley until they were back in the holding building, until they were standing back in the room Alec had woken up in so long ago. "I would have been wearing my Shadowhunter gear when I was taken. They probably would have taken a lot of it, but here's the clothing," Ryland explained, handing Alec a dark shirt and pair of pants. The clothes were already torn in places and dirty; clearly, the Circle had already thought ahead. "And, you're not gonna like the next part. I'll try to go easy on you." When Alec took on a confused and clearly concerned expression, Ryland sighed and explained, "We have to make it look like you've been held against your will. Any Clave-trained Shadowhunter would continue to fight back."

"So you have to beat me up," Alec concluded, a sinking feeling in his chest. How had he gotten wrapped up in this plan? There were several elements to it he was still nervous about. He was being roughed up by the one person here he trusted, he would have to infiltrate an already paranoid institution while also trying not to reveal he was taking on a persona. Not only that but if anyone found out his true identity as an exiled Shadowhunter, the Lightwood boy to make matters worse, well, Alec shuddered when thinking about the consequences. Something he didn't dare consider was the consequence for failing Valentine, as he figured that would be worse than anything else he was already worrying about. "Go ahead. It's the job, I get it. I'd rather it be you."

Ryland nodded, allowing a brief smile to take on his face as he brought the other man in for a quick hug. Over the weeks Alec was there, the pair had definitely become close; they hadn't really had another option. "Make sure you're calling me often to keep us informed on what you're learning. I'll see you in a few months."

* * *

Time seemed to run together for Alec. Sitting in a chilly, dark room was incredibly boring he quickly came to figure out. He wasn't afraid because he knew that the Institute would be led right to where he was, but he still found himself hoping that they'd find him much sooner than expected. The bruises littering Alec's upper body and face ached and his fingers itched for the stele he no longer possessed; wanting nothing more than to draw a healing rune for himself.

Just a few weeks prior, Alec was a simple author and waiter. He was Alec Harding, the young man who was lucky to have been adopted by a wonderful family who truly cared for him with every fiber of their beings. He was a man who had slipped right through school with little trouble or attention, whose worst worry was figuring out how to make rent for his apartment rather than keeping up his act as a spy for a resistance movement against a misacting government body. Somehow in the span of a few weeks, Alec went from being a normal person to sitting against a cold concrete wall waiting for someone to find him.

Luckily, someone did just that after what felt like days of waiting. Knowing how serious the Circle was about keeping appearances, it very well could have been days. The door to the room opened slowly as if the people entering feared to make too much noise. When they realized no one was there to attack, however, the door swung open fully, casting a bright light into the room and onto Alec's face. "Ryland!" An unfamiliar voice called out, echoing about the room. A man with shocking blond hair hurried to Alec's slumped form, his miscolored eyes taking the injuries in quickly. "Can you walk on your own? We have to get out of here before they come back."

"I'll try," Alec spoke, surprising himself by how weak his voice sounded. It must have been days, then, for the lack of food or water to have such an effect on him. The man before him held out a palm to help him up, though it became apparent that Alec's legs weren't able to keep him fully upright.

"Okay, c'mere," the stranger murmured, draping Alec's arm around his shoulders and holding some of his weight up for him. The man had to have been near Alec's age and was clearly a Shadowhunter; if not because of the runes decorating his pale skin then because of the gear he wore and the blade strapped at his waist.

In truth, the walk from the building to the Institute was lost to Alec in a haze. He could vaguely recall another man moving to support Alec's other side as Alec struggled to carry his weight at all. When Alec woke up in a mostly white room, he assumed he must have lost consciousness soon after being 'rescued'. The room was fairly empty, though contained a couple of rows of plain white beds. This was the infirmary, Alec concluded when the fog began to drift from his head. They must have brought him straight back to the Institute then, no questions asked. This may be more simple than he'd ever anticipated.

"Oh! You're awake, thank the angel," another unfamiliar voice breathed from the doorway. The woman who spoke rushed over to his bedside then, sitting in the stiff wooden chair beside the bed and grasping his pale hand in her own. Her blond hair stood out against her skin and her green eyes shone with worry as she looked at him. The way her eyes reflected the light revealed that she had either recently been crying or she was holding back newly formed tears. Dark runes also smattered her skin though she wasn't wearing the gear the other Shadowhunters had been before. Instead, she was dressed simply, as if she were prepared to be sitting still in the building for a while. "We thought we lost you, Ry."

There it was. They truly believed that he was Ryland Brookewater. That was when it clicked for Alec who this woman was. A twinge of guilt spread across his body as he was providing this woman a false reunion with her boyfriend. It will only hurt worse when he leaves again when it's made clear that he played her for a fool and her real boyfriend had left of his own account to fight against the council she fought for. "Elodie," Alec breathed, trying to relax the tension in his body as one would if they were given the sight of someone they cared for. Ryland and Elodie had begun dating not long after the man was assigned to the New York Institute, having been set up by Elodie's friend Izzy. His heart clenched for a moment at the prospect of meeting Isabelle Lightwood, his would-be sister if things had gone differently. It was strange to think that this fake life Alec was taking on would have been his if his parents would have allowed it. "I-" Alec tried though failed to find suitable words to give her. It was under the pretense of too much emotion that Alec hid behind rather than the lack of it.

"I know. You did what you had to do," Elodie spoke, mechanically as if it were a phrase she had to repeat several times over the past year and a half. "I'm just glad you're back. I thought...we've been through so much, but I thought this time you weren't coming back." The woman sounded tired as if it had taken too long to come to the realization. As if the mere thought of losing Ryland physically hurt her. Alec would make sure to scold the real Ryland on the phone when he could for leaving this woman without any closure and leaving him to clean up the mess. Elodie squeezed his hand once before her shoulders straightened and she eased into the posture of a soldier. It seemed the Clave had one thing in common with the Circle; its members had to be soldiers in every situation, putting the greater goal over their own emotions and wants. "The Heads of Institute will be back from Alicante soon. They'll want to talk to you about what happened."

In other words, they'll want to know if he said anything to the Circle in the time he was 'captured'. This was the moment in which he'd see his parents again, granted they had no idea the reunion was happening. Perhaps they never would know. Alec could look back on this moment and find closure when his parents never would be able to; it would be his own subtle revenge for leaving him behind so many years before. "Thanks, Elodie," he returned, not missing the dip in the woman's eyebrows as he responded.

"Ry, are you okay?" she asked, tilting her head to the side slightly as her face filled with true concern. "I know it's a strange question to ask, considering, but...you're starting to worry me."

Alec didn't miss the way her hand pulled from his, how she kept her gaze averted from him. A chill ran down his back as he realized he'd messed up somewhere, cast a shadow of a doubt in Elodie's mind. He would have to save it somehow. "I know I'm not acting like myself. I just, it was getting hard to hold on. I thought I wouldn't get the chance to see you again, and then I wake up and, well, here you are." That did it. He could see the gentle quiver of her lower lip as Elodie tried to keep herself composed and could also see the moment she gave up on it. She thrust herself forward to wrap him in a hug, holding him tightly as if she were afraid of losing him. More guilt began to weigh down Alec's shoulders, but he just kept reminding himself that if he continued acting like this then the real Ryland would have a chance to return to Elodie. He was doing all of this for the greater good, even if it felt completely wrong at the moment.

Thankfully, someone decided to ruin the moment by clearing their throat. When Elodie sat back and allowed Alec to look on the two people standing just inside the infirmary, his breath was almost literally pulled from his chest. There was a moment of fear where he wondered if he'd ever remembered how to breathe again. They were older than he remembered and looked more burnt out as if the weight of the world had been perched on their shoulders for decades. Still, the bald man and black-haired woman before Alec were almost certainly his parents. "Ryland, it's good to see you're awake. You seem to be doing well?" The man who had to be Robert spoke up, arms folded behind his back and tension in his voice giving across a distant and authoritative aura. He was not the Head of Institute for no reason.

"Yes. Thank you, Mr. Lightwood," Alec returned, trying to force the name through his lips as if it were a word he had never formed before. He hoped the new tension in his shoulders could be construed as pain rather than the resentment that was filling him. The pair were looking at him with slight concern in their expressions, but if they truly knew, would they feel any of the same worry? Ryland and Valentine had made it far too clear what the Lightwoods would do if they ever found out who he truly was; they'd either cast him out again or send him to the Clave where he would surely be executed for returning from exile. They'd left him once, they'd easily do it again.

Still, Alec was surprised to see genuine care on the woman's face. Maryse walked toward him slowly, standing just beside the chair Elodie was perched on. He knew from what Ryland told him that she preferred to keep less distance than Robert ever did, but Alec wasn't prepared for her to actually be worried. "I speak for the entire Institute when I say we are so glad to have you back. It wasn't the same without you around," Maryse spoke slowly as if her words could scare him off. When Alec nodded in thanks and gave a brief smile, Maryse continued. "I hate to ask you this so soon, but you know as well as anyone the protocol we must follow. Ryland, you were held captive by the Circle for over a year, and likely interrogated for information. Did you give any information to them, anything at all?"

The air in the room grew as thick and heavy as the atmosphere after a good rainstorm. Everyone was waiting with bated breaths to hear Alec's response. He winced, shaking his head slowly. "No, no I couldn't." The entire room seemed to breathe a sigh of relief at that, leading Alec to wonder if action would actually be taken against someone who was likely tortured for information. If he didn't already hate the Clave based on the information given, then he did at that moment.

"Good. You can have as much time as you need to recuperate, the Clave understands. We understand," Maryse spoke up then, moving to return to her husband's side.

"With all due respect, I'd rather get back to work as soon as possible. I want to get back to being myself," Alec spoke up, which caused a flash of what looked like respect in Robert's eyes.

"Of course. It's good to have you back. We have to return to Alicante for another Clave meeting, but Jace will be here if you need anything," Maryse returned, giving him a nod before the Lightwoods were gone, just like that. Of course, Jace must have been the blond who rescued him before. He was the Wayland boy that the Lightwoods adopted when he was ten. He was only a couple of years younger than Alec. The Harding boy couldn't help but wonder if perhaps they'd been so willing to adopt him because he could replace the son they gave up.

"Are you sure you don't want to rest some more before you get back to work?" Elodie asked with more concern in her gaze. Alec would just be thankful when that look of pity would disappear from people's faces when they no longer thought he would break with one wrong move.

"Actually, could you help me to my room? I might rest for a bit before I do," Alec spoke. It would be a good way to get them to show him where the proper bedroom was without them getting suspicious. "Thanks, Elodie," he added once more. He swung his legs gingerly over the bed, noting that he was no longer in pain but did have a residual aching feeling. Alec wished he would have known about the healing rune through his whole life, like when he had fallen out of a tree and broken his arm when he was twelve. The walk was quiet, neither sure of what to say to one another. Alec had to wonder if he felt like another person to the woman if she would be the first to tell he wasn't her Ryland. Alec would have to be especially careful around her if he didn't want to get busted.

When Alec was safely in the small bedroom, he allowed himself to pull out his phone. He had to call Ryland and let the Circle know that he got in and the Lightwoods trusted him, at least for now. Not only that but in a building full of enemies it would be good to talk to someone he knew without a doubt that he could trust. He may not fully trust Valentine, but he trusted Ryland and that was good enough for him to put his faith in the Circle.

"Alec! Is everything okay?" the familiar voice called through the phone.

"Yeah, it's good. This is my first check-in," he noted, sitting down on the edge of the bed there. With one glance Alec could tell the thing would be just a bit too short for his tall body, though that was to be expected. Ryland had warned him that the Clave didn't exactly provide for their soldiers well. "I met the Lightwoods. They trust me," he spoke in a low voice to avoid being overheard; he still wasn't sure how thin the walls were there. "I think your girlfriend thinks something is up, though. She really misses you, man, but that's not enough for her to miss that I'm not you."

There was silence for just a moment before Ryland sighed as if he were about to do something he sincerely regretted. "Look, Alec, you're right. It was silly of me to think that she wouldn't notice something was up. You have to distance yourself from her."

"Ryland, what are you saying? I thought that you wanted me to keep things how they were so when you came back-"

"We can't worry about that right now. I can't come back if she blows your cover," Ryland spoke though with such tension it was clear he was hurting. "You have to end things with her. It's the only way to get around this, Alec. After that, stick close with Jace and Izzy. They were friends before but not close enough that they would notice something was off. Okay?"

"Okay," Alec returned, feeling more guilt pressing on him. He got to return to the life that was meant for him, but at what cost? He was just ruining Ryland's chances of having a good life when he returned to the people that he cared about. Alec didn't understand it, but he respected Ryland's ability to place his duty over his emotions. "I'll check in with you soon." With that, the phone call ended and Alec had a task to complete no matter how heavy it weighed on his conscience.

Alec hadn't gone far out of his room before the same blond man from before jogged up to him, clapping him once on the back. "Just the man I was looking for," the man who could only be Jace called out. "Heard you were ready to get back into it?"

"Of course," Alec responded quickly, straightening his back and waiting for the order to arrive.

"We'll start you off easy then. High Warlock has to come in and check the wards around this place. Think you can walk him around, make sure he doesn't do anything he's not supposed to?" Jace asked, hardly waiting for Alec's nod before he grinned, "Perfect. Knew you could, Ryland." Before Alec knew what was happening, Jace was walking with him to the front of the Institute before leaving him there to wait for the warlock. It seemed like a simple enough job.

That is, until Alec saw who was standing there. The showy way of dress and kohl-lined eyes could not be forgotten. Panic filled Alec's body as he realized who the High Warlock was. Shit. He glanced around, noticing how many Shadowhunters were walking around the Institute, at least in the front room. Alec crossed the room to the man standing before him, noticing the way the warlock's eyes widened and his lips parted as if to question how he'd gotten there. "Not here," Alec hissed under his breath, wincing at how his voice shook. How had he forgotten his previous run-in with this warlock? It was typical that nothing ever seemed to go right in the plan, leaving Alec to improvise on how to keep his identity a secret. "Let's go," Alec spoke sharply, pushing his shoulders back and beginning to walk stiffly through the corridors, only beginning to breathe again when the number of Shadowhunters around them dwindled to a few with every turn.

"Wow, you got the Nephilim arrogance down quickly," the warlock spoke from beside him with what appeared to be a smirk toying at his lips.

"Stop," Alec snapped, fearing one of the few Shadowhunters that passed would hear something off.

"And the Lightwood bossy attitude, at that. You fit right in here, Al-" Magnus began to taunt, only for Alec to spin around and grab the man's arms tightly, as if trying to convey how serious this was.

"Stop. They don't know who I am," Alec explained, voice tense as he tried to speak as quietly as possible, even though he knew there was no one left in the corridor to overhear.

Magnus raised one eyebrow as he glanced at the hands holding his arms. Alec could see the other man working through the situation, figuring out his best course of action. "I gathered as much, little angel," he spoke, sounding almost amused at the situation. "I just wonder how you went from being convinced you were mundane to hiding out in the Institute your dear parents run."

"It's a long story for another day," Alec returned, "I don't have to explain a thing to you."

"Actually you do. That is if you don't want me to shout your name through the entire Institute." Alec glared at the warlock then, wondering briefly if it was acceptable to hit the High Warlock of the area, or if that would cause him more trouble than what it was worth.

How could he explain without giving himself away? The only suitable way to get the man to shut up was seemingly telling him of Alec's entire purpose there, but he could already hear Ryland's warning voice. No one could know why he was there under any circumstances because they couldn't trust anyone with the information. Alec sighed, running his hand furiously through his hair as he released the warlock, shoulders slumping some. "I couldn't get it out of my head, what you told me about being a part of this world. I wanted it. So I didn't stop until I found a way to get here, and that way involves me being Ryland Brookewater indefinitely instead of, well, you know."

"Clever," Magnus mused, nodding his head once before he crossed his arms. His entire posture spoke of defense, remaining as closed off as possible. It was clear he didn't feel secure in the Institute and Alec doubted it just had to do with him. "Your family is distraught, you know."

"What?"

"I knew the Shadowhunters don't care about mundanes, but I didn't know you'd forget about the only people that actually care about you that quickly," Magnus continued, surprising Alec even more. When Alec tilted his downward in guilt, the warlock before him only continued speaking, "Just go see them. Let them know you're alive."

"I can't do that, not without possibly compromising wh-" Alec began, ready to begin explaining the importance of what he was doing. He stopped himself, hurt filling his system. He wanted nothing more than to go see Gerald and Bea, let them know that he was alive and well. That he had to go but he would be okay. They wouldn't understand it but it would be for their own safety. Alec would do anything to keep them safely ignorant when it came to this world.

"If you don't talk to them then I will tell Maryse Lightwood herself who you really are," the warlock warned.

"Why do you care so much?" It did confuse Alec. The man had cured Bea of her ever-present limp, yes, but it had been for money not out of the goodness of his heart. Not only that, but the warlock had seemed determined on staying out of the Lightwood affair which Alec was quickly beginning to understand why. It was a mess that even he wished to stay out of even if that were completely impossible.

Alec admittedly could have stared into those brown eyes for eternity. The way they looked at him with so much depth, as if there was more that could have been said between them. It was clear that this warlock was wise, that he'd seen a lot in his years and understood the situation better than Alec could have ever hoped. The moment was fleeting though, for soon the warlock was cut off once more, leaving Alec with the phantom feeling of understanding. "Because your sister continues to pester me, begging me to find you. It's become annoying." Magnus had returned to his doesn't-give-a-damn attitude and for good reason. Alec hadn't given him any indication that he'd be safe in opening up. He'd been brash and cold toward the warlock, but he didn't have time to be anything else.

Still, Alec was beginning to understand that perhaps acting like a Circle spy was a sure way of being found out. He would need allies in this if he were to get through the months required by Valentine. As much as he hated to admit it, Ryland couldn't actually help him if he needed it. So, Alec sighed and nodded his head, ruffling his hair once more in an act of nervousness. "Okay, I will. Just don't tell anyone who I am. Please." The young man hated to beg, but he knew that in this situation the warlock did indeed have the upper hand.

"Don't worry, your secret's safe with me, Ryland," Magnus responded with a wink and a smirk, unexpectedly causing Alec to blush furiously. It wasn't often that someone caused such an effect on him, but the young Shadowhunter could only blame it on the fact that it's been a trying day through and through. The smirk dropped quickly though to be replaced by a serious look on the warlock's bronze face. "But just know, little angel, if it comes down to me or you, don't think for a second that I won't talk."

"Understood," Alec returned with a nod, breathing a sigh of relief when the smirk returned and Magnus's figure looked considerably less serious. Though, as they continued walking through the Institute, Alec could feel the sheer power beside him despite the joking attitude. He had to wonder how the Shadowhunters had managed to hold any power over the warlocks when Alec could already tell that if Magnus truly wanted him dead he could snap his fingers and make it happen.

The Shadow World was a more confusing place than Alec ever thought it could be. He just hoped he could keep up without drowning. It was getting steadily harder the longer Alec remained in the Institute. There was one factor that the Circle had never anticipated; no matter how much they wished it to be true, _Alexander Lightwood was far from dead_.


End file.
